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Quote by Robin S. Baker

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Robin S. Baker

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“In nature, waste does not exist. There is only production and consumption; there is only creation and utilization. Everything that's produced is efficiently consumed. Everything that's created is efficiently utilized. And this cyclicality results in growth and in profit. The same should be true of each business, and the same should be true of an economy.”

BusinessWasteEfficiencyMicrosoftBoeingCircular EconomyHondaChipotleBloombergGardein
Author:Hendrith Vanlon Smith Jr
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“Adam offered a car key. 'Take my little red Honda. It's parked out front. When you finish with it, just tell it to go home. Don't be deceived by its modest appearance. It's fully shielded and equipped with enough gadgetry to tempt the ghost of James Bond.' 'Can it makes a vente triple-shot no-foam latte?' 'In a New York minute.' Ef took the key, kissed it, and headed for the front door.”

CoffeeCarsThe FutureHondaLatteSpeculative Technology
Author:Julian May
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“It is perfectly serendipitous,' said the boy, descending the steps to the street. 'Fancy that—us meeting a second time! Of course I have wished for it, very much—but they were vain wishes; the kind one makes in twilight states, you know, idly. I remember just what you said, as we rounded the heads of the harbor—in the dawn light. "I should like to see him in a storm," you said. I have thought of it many times, since; it was the most delightfully original of speeches.' Anna blushed at this: not only had she never heard herself described as an original before, she had certainly never supposed that her utterances qualified as 'speeches.”

SerendipityEleanor CattonThe LuminariesSerendipitous
Book:The Luminaries
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“Cowell Devlin sighed. Yes, he understood Anna Wetherell at long last, but it was not a happy understanding. Devlin had known many women of poor prospects and limited means, whose only transport out of the miserable cage of their unhappy circumstance was the flight of the fantastic. Such fantasies were invariably magical—angelic patronage, invitations into paradise—and Anna's story, touching though it was, showed the same strain of the impossible. Why, it was painfully clear! The most eligible bachelor of Anna's acquaintance possessed a love so deep and pure that all respective differences between them were rendered immaterial? He was not dead—he was only missing? He was sending her 'messages' that proved the depth of his love—and these were messages that only she could hear? It was a fantasy, Devlin thought. It was a fantasy of the girl's own devising. The boy could only be dead.”

FantasyEscapismDaydreamsEleanor CattonThe Luminaries
Book:The Luminaries
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